


Royal Blood

by lforevermore



Series: The Golden King [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:56:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5977570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lforevermore/pseuds/lforevermore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Gavin is already insecure about his new status, and someone at the court decides he would be better off dead.</p><p>Follow at inmywildernesswriting.tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoulFishie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulFishie/gifts).



Gavin wakes sweating, tangled in the bodies of his lovers, naked and gasping. It’s on the heels of a nightmare, twisting through his mind and still behind his eyelids when he blinks them closed. Michael sleeps soundly beside him, but Ryan stirs, soothing a hand down Gavin’s back and pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“What is it?” Ryan asks, voice rough from sleep and quiet, trying not to disturb Michael.

Gavin shakes his head. They need their rest, after all, and Gavin won’t be the reason they miss out. “It’s nothing,” he says, and hopes he sounds convincing. Pressing back into Ryan helps, and the king curls an arm around Gavin, burying his face in his neck.

The nightmare stays with him, though.

 

He can hear the whispers of the court, the ones that echo around corners and the quiet words said by servants to each other. Gavin knows how they look at him when they think his gaze is turned away, knows what is said by the lords and ladies who titter and tsk at his lack of royal blood. _He has no claim to the throne,_ they murmur to each other. _He was never noble._ _The Peasant King, the Golden Fool, he doesn’t belong_.

They’re right, he thinks in the quiet moments, when he’s trying to balance court life and romance, trying to add something meaningful to the meetings and discussions. They’re right, he doesn’t belong, he’s just a pretty boy who caught the kings’ eyes. It’s a painful realization to come to, but ultimately, Gavin knows, it’s better that he knows it in the long run. It’s better that he knows where he really stands.

 

It comes to a head at a feast. A servant pours his wine, a young man that Gavin’s never seen before, and Gavin murmurs a thank you. He can’t enjoy the feast as he usually does, knows that he doesn’t deserve to be up here at the head of the table with the best food – if anything, he should be serving, or even, back on his father’s farm, working the land and keeping his head down.

“Is something wrong with your wine, sire?” the servant asks, all concern and worry that perhaps he’s done something wrong, and Gavin quickly shakes his head and takes a sip.

Immediately, he spits it out, coughing and spluttering, one hand reaching out to grasp Michael’s arm. The hall goes silent as he regains control of himself, and the servant takes a step back, eyes wide. Ryan immediately snatches the goblet up, lifting it to his own nose to smell it, and his face turns stormy – the face of the Mad King.

He grabs the servant’s tunic. “Who gave you this wine?” he demands, as Michael and Gavin look on.

“The – the Lord Felix, sire!” the servant manages, even though he’s clearly scared out of his wits. “He-he said it was a gift for…” He trails off, and then, looking miserable. “For the Golden Fool. Pardon me, sire, I mean no insult, but it’s… it’s what he said.”

Michael and Ryan stand, Michael drawing his sword. “You dare try to poison the king?” Michael snarls, even as guards swarm in to haul Felix from his seat. “Traitorous coward!”

The look of contempt on the man’s face chills Gavin to the bone. “He is no king! He is a fool, playing dress up in crown!” Felix yells. “He deserves no title, deserves no respect!”

Gavin goes pale, the words hitting him like well-aimed arrows. The man was right, he thought, and Gavin had almost died for this… delusion. Ryan orders the Lord be taken from their sight, sent down to the dungeons to be dealt with the next day, a possessive hand pressed to Gavin’s back.

“Excuse me,” Gavin manages, and has to stop himself from running out of the room, lest he give the court more fodder to use in the battle they seem to be waging against him. It isn’t until he’s in the kings’ chambers, trying to close the door behind him, that he realizes that he’s been followed.

Michael and Ryan close the door behind them, Michael crowding Gavin up against the wall and pressing a domineering kiss to his neck, teeth biting in. “So smart,” Michael murmurs. “You knew right away something was wrong, I’ll kill him myself if I have to, to even _think_ about taking you away from us.”

“He was right,” Gavin whispers, presses his palms to Michael’s chest until the king moves back. “He was right, I… I don’t belong, I’m just…”

“A peasant?” Ryan cuts in, and Gavin flinches as though he’d been slapped. “Do you really think so little of yourself, Gavin? You are an accomplished thief, giving us valuable insight into security. You come from a poor background, letting us know what it is like to _live_ that, when Michael and I have no idea. You help us better understand the people we serve, Gavin.”

“I’m not…” Gavin tries again, but Michael surges forward once more, this time silencing him with lips pressed to his own.

“You’re perfect,” Michael growls. “You’re everything we want.”

He pulls Gavin away from the wall, pressing him back into Ryan instead. Ryan helpfully grabs hold of Gavin’s arms, hands sliding down to circle his wrists in a gentle, but firm, hold. Michael drops to his knees as Gavin reels from the quick movements, unlacing Gavin’s breeches and pulling his cock free.

“You’re perfect,” he says again, gentler this time, and kisses the head before wrapping his lips around the tip, gazing fiercely up at Gavin even as he slowly sucks him down.

Ryan holds him still, keeps his hands around Gavin’s wrists so that Gavin can’t tangle his hands in Michael’s hair, and it hits Gavin that he _almost lost this_. He almost lost the way that Ryan presses unhurried, but strangely desperate kisses to his neck, almost lost how Michael takes him in, slowly at first and then all at once. He almost lost the feeling of Ryan’s cock pressed against the line of his ass, the way that Michael looks up at him in such adoration that Gavin feels… _royal._

“You’re everything we need,” Ryan murmurs, pressing another kiss to Gavin’s neck. “You make us human.”

And as he comes, arched into Ryan’s arms with Michael’s hands on his hips, Gavin realizes – he is a king here.


End file.
